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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26263894">See You At Graduation...?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterMelonT/pseuds/WinterMelonT'>WinterMelonT</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Gravity Falls</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bullying, Canon Divergence - A Tale of Two Stans, Episode: s02e12 A Tale of Two Stans, Gen, Name Changes, Self-Given Names, Stan Pines Needs A Hug, Stan Pines-centric, Teenage Stan Twins, Young Ford Pines, Young Stan Twins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:40:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,087</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26263894</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterMelonT/pseuds/WinterMelonT</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Crampelter being an asshole, as always.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>No Romantic Relationship(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>See You At Graduation...?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So, uh... I drew a comic for an AU idea and decided to write about it! It'll probably help my writer's block, to be honest. Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Stan angrily stared at his brother’s project. “This is all </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> fault, you dumb machine!” He yelled as he threw a (now empty) bag of toffee peanuts on the ground. He was angry… At a machine. Yup. “Then, why don’t you </span>
  <em>
    <span>destroy</span>
  </em>
  <span> it?” An intimidating voice spoke near the doorway. He turned towards them and realized who it was. Crampelter and his friends; he and Ford’s bullies (as well as others’ bullies, but it was mostly towards them.)</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Crampelter.” He said through gritted teeth, narrowing his eyes. “Stanley.” He said in the same way, also narrowing his eyes. “Bentley!” The shorter of the three bullies exclaimed, not realizing that they weren’t just saying each others’ names. Now, he felt embarrassed. Crampelter gave him a look, before turning back towards Stan, telling the other bully, “Hey, Chad, let’s do Stanley a </span>
  <em>
    <span>favor, </span>
  </em>
  <span>shall we?” Chad grinned, exclaiming, “Yeah!” He always agreed with Crampelter, of course. That much was obvious and Stan knew that, already.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Stanley stared in horror as Chad walked over and smashed his brother’s project. It wouldn't have mattered if he had tried to stop him; he would’ve managed to do it, anyways. He angrily clenched at his sides and they began to shake at how mad this made him. “Why, you-!” He shouted, about to rush at the bullies in the same way that he did whenever they were bullying his brother for having six fingers. “Careful, there… You wouldn’t want to destroy it more than I’ve </span>
  <em>
    <span>already</span>
  </em>
  <span> done!” Crampelter teased, forcing him to stop in his tracks. His breathing grew heavier. “You know what’s the </span>
  <em>
    <span>best</span>
  </em>
  <span> part of this?” The blonde-haired bully asked, although it was a rhetorical question. Stan didn’t answer him. “Your brother’s going to blame </span>
  <em>
    <span>you!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The three bullies laugh. Stan’s (previously) angry expression turned to that of a fearful one. The bullies continue to laugh as they leave, leaving him to stare and Ford’s (currently broken) machine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was the afternoon of the next day. Stanford’s dream school had rejected him for his broken project. Stanley sat on the couch with the TV off and a paddle to the side of him. Normally, he would’ve paddled that ball to death while paying attention to whatever was on the television. However, he didn’t feel like doing either of those things and just silently stared at the ground, thinking to himself. His brother wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>going to assume that it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>him, </span>
  </em>
  <span>was he?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His (mental) question was soon answered as his brother angrily slammed open the door. He slammed it back to close it (after he walked in, of course) and turned to look down at his brother, who looked back up at him. “H-Hey, Sixer…” He says, hoping that he wasn’t actually as mad as he looked. “Can you explain what </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>was doing next to my broken project?!” He shouted at Stan, holding up the empty bag of toffee peanuts that Stanley had accidentally left underneath the table that his machine sat atop of. “I-I know that this looks bad, b-b-but I swear… It- It wasn’t me! I-I-I can e-explain!” He tries to explain to his brother. Ford didn’t believe him, however, shouting at him, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“You </span>
  </em>
  <span>did this, Stan! </span>
  <em>
    <span>You </span>
  </em>
  <span>did this because you couldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>handle</span>
  </em>
  <span> me going to college on my </span>
  <em>
    <span>own!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Alright, maybe the last sentence was true, but… He wasn’t the one who destroyed his brother’s project. “J-Just let me </span>
  <em>
    <span>explain!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Stan shouts. Well, if his brother wasn’t going to listen to him, then he would have to try a </span>
  <em>
    <span>different</span>
  </em>
  <span> approach. “Maybe- Maybe there’s a silver lining to this! Huh…? Treasure hunting…?” He suggests. This only made his brother angrier. “Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>kidding</span>
  </em>
  <span> me? Why would I want to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything </span>
  </em>
  <span>with the person who sabotaged my entire </span>
  <em>
    <span>future?!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Stanford shouted.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ouch. Those words stung like poison. He expected him to be mad, but… This…? This was uncalled for. He had basically asked him, ‘Why would I want to have anything to do with </span>
  <em>
    <span>you?’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>The more he thought about his  brother’s words, the worse he felt. And, even worse, his father had heard those words. He tended to… Overreact… To say the </span>
  <em>
    <span>least.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “You did </span>
  <em>
    <span>what, </span>
  </em>
  <span>you knucklehead?!” He shouted, holding Stan up by his shirt. Stan was shaking as he did so. His mother walked in on the scene, holding a crying baby. She asks, “Stanley? What's goin' on in here?”  He knew that he had to talk back to his father, if he didn’t want to get kicked out. Either that, or it would get him kicked out </span>
  <em>
    <span>faster. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He was still going to try, though.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait, no, I can explain; I didn’t-” He tried to tell his father, who only threw him outside with a black duffel bag that contained only the bare necessities for him in response. Then, he begins to shout at him, yelling, “You</span>
  <em>
    <span> ignoramus! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Your brother was gonna be our ticket </span>
  <em>
    <span>out </span>
  </em>
  <span>of this dump! All you </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever </span>
  </em>
  <span>do is lie and cheat right on your brother's coattails. Well, this time, you cost our family potential </span>
  <em>
    <span>millions! </span>
  </em>
  <span>And, until </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>make us a fortune, you aren't </span>
  <em>
    <span>welcome </span>
  </em>
  <span>in this household.” While this was happening, Ford had walked upstairs to his room, so he wasn’t downstairs, but he still watched from outside his window. “What?!” Stan exclaimed to his father, before looking up at the window that his brother was watching him through. “Stanford, tell him he's bein' crazy!” He shouts up at his brother. He looks at Stan and then at the pamphlet of the dream school that his twin had seemingly ruined all his chances for. He sadly closes his curtains. No. This was Stanley’s fault. Plus, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>talked back to their father.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Stanford? Don’t leave me hangin’. High six?” Stan tries to encourage his brother to open his blinds again, but he wasn’t listening. By now, his father had slammed the door shut. “Fine! I don’t need </span>
  <em>
    <span>you! </span>
  </em>
  <span>I don’t need </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone! </span>
  </em>
  <span>I’ll make </span>
  <em>
    <span>millions </span>
  </em>
  <span>and you’ll </span>
  <em>
    <span>rue</span>
  </em>
  <span> the day you turned your back on me!” He shouted, although he knew that he was just lying to himself. He got in his car and began to drive away, (somehow) managing to hold back his tears. It was awful: thanks to Crampelter and his friends, he had no brother, no home, no </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing…</span>
  </em>
  <span> But maybe he could fix everything. All he had to do was… Earn millions of dollars. Yeah… Like </span>
  <em>
    <span>that's</span>
  </em>
  <span> gonna happen. He sighed, despair lingering in his shaky breath.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>What a life.</em>
  </b>
</p>
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